Larkin: Patterns
after the events of [[The Black Minute-Glass]] Larkin sat in the dark, wallowing in misery. She had crawled into this cramped, pitch black space about an hour ago; maybe more, she couldn’t recall for sure. It didn’t matter anyway because she did not plan on leaving it any time soon. She had to be alone, had to hide until she could pin down, dissect and banish this feeling that tore her up inside. So far, she hadn’t been successful. The only thing Larkin had been able to discern was that she had no right to feel so damn miserable. Hell, the look on his face. The look he had worn, slumped at Amari’s side, both of them covered in blood. She closed her eyes and let herself slip back again.Back into the darkness of a ship’s belly; the darkness of a coal cellar. Before her, a wooden door; a wooden hatch. And behind, a friend. She curled up tighter, hugging her arms around her knees, and cried out. A raspy, throaty sound that came without her own volition. What the hell was wrong with her? She couldn’t grasp it. There she had been, only a few steps away from that damned door. She could’ve gone in. Could’ve helped Goro even if their chances had been slimmer than a strand of hair. That was what partners did for one another, wasn’t it? She imagined herself going for it. Maybe Rodger would’ve followed behind. They would have gone in and … Mishka, eyes black and wet, snapping his fingers; fire exploding all around them. Died. They’d have died. The rational part of her mind told her it had been the right decision. Right this time and the last. Even in her panic, her instincts had warned her against a stupid action that might have cost her life. Her instincts had asked the important questions: What had happened to Goro after Mishka vanished with him? Had Diva used him to turn the others as well? Was he even still alive? What the hell was she supposed to do to stop any of it? Her instincts had won. At the very least, they had made her hesitate for too long yet again, wasting the precious seconds it had taken for Diva to destroy everything Goro cared for. They had never talked about this but Larkin suspected, there hadn’t been that much to begin with. “I got your back,” she had said. Fucking liar. Don’t make promises you aren’t ready to keep, Larkin. She was a damn coward. She could handle danger, yes, but that moment had demanded more than that. She wasn’t brave, no damned hero. Just a thief and a cutthroat and a selfish fucking coward. In fact, Larkin was positive she had never been more afraid in her life. Not when they had thrown her into the well, not when they’d tried to burn them all in her uncle’s home and not when Finch’s hand had slipped out of hers. “Fuck!” It was more a snarl than a word, the sound reverberating from the wood that pressed in close around her. Her throat hurt from the force she’d put behind it. This self-pity was disgusting and she deserved more punishment for it than what she’d gotten during the fight. She opened her eyes and stared down at her arms slung around her knees. Her damned tiefling eyes could see even in this darkness, showing her what she didn’t want to be shown. The half-healed burns, the remnants of that insane blast of fire Mishka had loosened at them. Wounds Goro had healed even as he sat with mother dying in his arms. She began scratching at the raw skin until her fingers came away slick. Fuck. She closed her eyes again. They were burning, somehow, but there were no tears. Finch’s face came up, unbidden. She had the urge to lash out at it, to curse and shout at him and to kick him in the fucking guts. She wanted to curse him for holding her responsible. Curse him for cutting the ties to someone who wouldn’t got back to save him. She heaved and growled at herself but the tears wouldn’t come, even though her chest felt like it was about to tear open. She had tried to make up with Finch. Had chained herself into debt, possibly for the rest of her life, to get him free. He hadn’t forgiven her. They had been partners for close to a decade, had placed complete trust in each other but she’d fucked it up and he hadn’t been able to forgive her. Larkin knew she had to talk to Goro eventually. Wanted to, even. Apologize, even if it didn’t make things undone, for not having his back like she’d promised. Let him hit her, if he wanted. Let him do anything. Just not… she did not know how she’d handle it a second time. She remembered the way Finch had looked at her when she had gone to get him out of his cell. Goro would look at her just like that. Sneer, then turn away. Or maybe not. Maybe he’d just stare at her with that same blank look he’d worn after the possession had vanished. Her hand lashed out and she struck a wooden beam with her fist. It hurt and she flinched but the pain was welcome. The physical pain dulled the one inside. Like the darkness, it helped fight the guilt, even though Larkin knew she had to go and face it eventually. If only she knew how. She decided just stay here a little longer. Category:Vignettes Category:Larkin